Page 114 of The Lyon Returns
Gideon went very still. “What was odd about it?”
“He kinda shuffled, like.”
His green-gold gaze sparked like a flint strike. “A red-haired man with a limp.”
“That’s him,” Meredith said.
“You know him?” Gwen asked Gideon.
“Unless I miss my guess, his name is Mr. Rory, and he’s the customs official who oversees the London docks.”
Several hours later,after seeing Meredith and Celia safely ensconced in a hackney bound for Yorkshire, Gideon bundled Gwen back into his travel coach to make for London.
He knew Gwen well enough by now to understand having been away from her precious publishing house for several days now meant she would be anxious to return to it. She likely had her fingers in several pies, editing and overseeing all aspects of production.
Meanwhile, he wanted to be in place to question the customsofficial first thing Monday morning when the office opened.
The moment the equipage set off, he turned down the lamps, casting the coach interior into virtual darkness, save for the intermittent bursts of light spilling in from a street gas lamp. He did not wish to talk. He did not wish to think, for that matter, but he did not have the luxury of avoiding the truth of what had happened to Dirk.
Evidently, hehadbetrayed Gideon, but it was hard to fault his motivation for doing so. He’d wanted to save his wife and child.
Gideon shot Gwen, seated across from him, a covert look. She stared out the window, surprisingly bright-eyed after the long day they’d spent traveling, not to mention the ceremony that had altered her very existence. As well as her name, which was now his.
If someone threatened her, what would he do? What would henotdo?
He turned his head to look out the window, mostly to keep from studying her. It was so hard not to. The woman distracted him beyond measure, tied him up in bloody knots when he needed to focus on other things.
Such as what Dirk got pulled into, when all he wanted was to get out of the shipping business and live a simple life with his family.
One could argue the man should have gone to the authorities, but when the order to commit treason came from an authority figure, where would a common man safely seek assistance?
If Gideon had been here, Dirk would have gone to him, no doubt. But Gideon had not been here, thanks to going off on wild goose chase, and now the man was likely dead. Gideon may as well have taken a pistol to his friend’s head and pulled the trigger.
“Gideon,” Gwen said, her voice gentle.
He would not look at her. “Yes?”
“It was not your fault, Gideon.”
Of course. Of course she knew where his thoughts had gone. He fisted his hands. He wanted to punch something. To hurl something. “But, it was,” he gritted out.
“No,” she said, the single word infused with compassion he did not deserve. “As we already deduced, you were set up. You were lured away because you were the one person this Rory individual knew he could not intimidate into misadventure.”
Unable to resist the urge, his head snapped in her direction. “So he told me my shipments were short and I took the bait, hook, line, and sinker.” Gideon had been a bloody fool.
“Why would you not? Think about it, Gideon. You are an accomplished businessman. You did not rise to your level of success by looking the other way when men tried to swindle you.”
He wanted—needed—her closer.
As if he’d spoken aloud, she crossed the aisle and sidled up beside him, then tried to wedge one of her hands behind his back.
He was insanely grateful for her nearness, the sweet, floral scent of her that seemed to emanate from her person. “What are you doing, madam?” he asked, even as he leaned forward to allow her arm to go around him.
“I’m cold,” she said and grinned up at him.
He knew, somehow, she fabricated the excuse—for his sake, no doubt, but he let it stand. “Oh. Well, then. Up for a moment, if you please.” He shifted in much the same way he had when they’d set out from London, pressing his back into the side of the cab, stretching one leg atop the bench, and dropping the other over the edge, and then, God, yes, pulling her lithe body into his arms.
She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled into him, without a word.
